When I got out of the Army, I was quite ready to go home. I didn’t want to
mess around taking the long way, or doing some sightseeing on the way. I was
ready to get out, and get home, and that’s what I did—promptly and by the
most direct route. Central Texas, where I was stationed at the time, may not
have been as bad for me as Egypt was for our ancestors, but I was still
eager to get out of there and get back home.
Which makes me think our ancestors, the ancient Israelites, must have felt
very frustrated with the news they were given at the beginning of this
week’s parsha, Beshallach.
The very beginning of this week’s parsha reads “And it came to pass, when
Pharaoh had let the people go, that God led them not by the way of the land
of the Philistines, although it was nearer; for God said, ‘The people may
have a change of heart when they see war, and return to Egypt.’”
Bad news. God was not going to bring the people home to the land of Israel
right away. He was instead going to take the long roundabout path. A detour
that would add 39 years, 11 months and two weeks to what should have been a
two week journey. Home was SO close—and yet so far away.
The phrase I translated as “although it was nearer,” “ki karov hu,” is
actually a rather complicated phrase to translate.
Ki usually means “because” or “for,” as in “ki l’olam chasdo,” for His
kindness is eternal. In the Talmud, tractate Shavuot (49b), Resh Lakish
teaches that the word “ki” is translatable by four expressions: ‘if’,
‘perhaps’, ‘but’, and ‘because’. Resh Lakish didn’t even list “although” as
one of the options!
If we take a survey of translations of the Bible, we find the following:
Etz Chayim: “although it was nearer”
Hertz (and King James): “although that was near”
Artscroll: “because it was near”
These two different translations of the word “ki:” although and because,
reflect an argument between the rabbis. Rashi and Ibn Ezra say it should be
translated “because.” Another commentator, Minchah B’lulah says “although.”
Ramban, Nachmanides, would add another translation. He says the correct
reading is “WHICH” was near.
These three interpretations represent a grammatical argument: is the phrase
“ki karov hu” a clause of cause (because), a clause of concession
(although), or a relative clause (which).
Superficially, the clause appears to be a clause of cause. It sounds like
the Torah is saying God specifically did NOT take the people that way
BECAUSE it was the short path. The obvious problem with this is put forth by
Mizrahi: “The directness of the route constitutes a good reason for
following it, rather than avoiding it! Yet here the opposite is stated!”
This is what led Minchah B’lulah (and Hertz, King James, and JPS) to go with
the translation of “ki” as “although.” The problem with translating the word
as although is there is nothing in the scriptural context to understand the
clause in this sense.
Ramban deals with this by saying in the context it simply means “which,” so
Ramban would read the verse as saying “He did not lead them via Philistine
territory which was near, (and which route was really preferable), because
God reasoned the people may change their minds when they see war and return
to Egypt.
If we look at what happens right after God brings the people out of Egypt,
He had good reason to be concerned they would run back to Egypt. No sooner
are they free of slavery then they start complaining how much better life
was in Egypt than out in the desert, far from the fleshpots.
I suggest that “Occam’s razor” applies in this situation, as in so many
others. I think Ramban and Minchah B’lulah are going through unnecessary
contortions. The context tells us that the shorter route was in fact less
desirable. God did not take the Israelites by the Philistine territory,
davka, specifically, BECAUSE it was close. Not only might the Jews want to
run back to Egypt, but the shortest route would NOT have been the best for
the people.
Why not??
If it was simply that the Philistines were in the way, and they were tough,
a slight detour through the Sinai and Negev, adding perhaps a week to the
journey, would probably have been enough. Why add forty years?
One might say they didn’t really need forty years—they needed something in
between the direct route and forty years. They got forty years because they
were being punished for the sin of not having faith when the spies came back
with their report that it would be impossible to conquer the land.
That sin has to be put in the context of the character of the people. Not
only were they scared, not only did they lack faith in God, but the people
were a bunch of whiners and complainers. They lodge at least three
complaints against God and Moses just in this week’s parsha. “We don’t have
water,” “we miss the good restaurants in Egypt,” “you had to bring us out
into this wilderness to die, there were no graves in Egypt?!”
Most of the commentators pick up on this bad attitude and say the generation
that left Egypt needed to die off before the conquering of the land of
Israel. They had a slave mentality and were not suitable for the hardships
of establishing a new nation. They weren’t fighters, they didn’t value their
freedom above everything else. What was needed was a new generation,
toughened by having lived in the desert their entire lives, that would have
the energy, determination, and commitment to conquer the land and build a
nation.
But I would like to suggest that there is another reason the short way
wasn’t the best.
We often don’t appreciate things which are given to us on a silver platter.
And we certainly don’t learn anything if the answer is simply handed to us.
If God could miraculously bring us out of the land of Egypt, did God’s magic
powers suddenly dry up? Let us not suggest, God forbid, that God had the
power to bring us out of Egypt, but didn’t have the power to plunk us down
right into Israel. Surely not! Therefore, God must have had a plan and
purpose in forcing that long route.
People who win the lottery often end up having a rather unhappy time with
it. I know, you have a hard time mustering up much sympathy for someone who
wins millions of dollars in a lottery. But it’s hard not to feel sorry for
Jack Whittaker. He won $113 million in the lottery, and two years later his
life was in total shambles—he’d spent $45 million the first year, much on
very poor business investments. Within two years he’d been robbed several
times, had been involved in scandals at strip clubs, and his granddaughter,
who everyone said was a very nice normal girl before the lottery, committed
suicide. And he’s far from the only one. There’s a web site which has a long
list of lottery winners who have gone bankrupt and / or committed suicide.
There are plenty of people who have $113 million in the bank and don’t have
those problems. Well, maybe not plenty, but some anyway. Mostly people who
earned it. Who acquired it the slow way. Who figured out how to deal with it
in the meanwhile. Of course, most of us aren’t going to have that particular
problem to solve. But the message is still there – just being given
something is not necessarily a good thing.
I don’t always have time to read the entire newspaper every day, but I
really make an effort to at least read the front page and the funnies. You
can find many important life lessons on the comics pages. Yesterday’s
Foxtrot was right on the point I’m talking about today. Paige is sitting at
her desk writing. “First, I looked in the back of the book, but it wasn’t an
odd-numbered problem. Then I asked my little brother, but he wanted me to
pay him $5. Finally, I found it on the Internet with Google.” Paige then
explains to her perplexed looking older brother: “My math teacher wants us
to show how we get our answers.”
Of course, as creative as her solutions are, Paige does not learn much math
that way. Which is why as a parent, when I help my kids with their homework
I almost never just give them the answer—instead I give them guidance on how
to find the answer.
There’s not much education that goes with taking the short way.
But there’s still more to taking the long way. Not only is the educational
aspect important, but there is the appreciation aspect. We have a much
deeper appreciation for things we have to work for.
This is illustrated fairly clearly in a few different approaches to solving
the problem of housing for poor people. The low income housing projects in
New York City, where poor people were just given free or very low rent
housing quickly deteriorated into very ugly places, dirty, not maintained,
crime-ridden. The people that were given the cheap housing didn’t feel a
sense of responsibility for the housing. By contrast, Habitat for Humanity
helps poor people build their own homes. They have to pay for the home, the
often contribute physically to the building of the home. They pay a price
FAR below market rates…but they have worked for their home, they have taken
the metaphorical “long way around,” it’s not just given to them. And the
homes are generally well-kept up and maintained. It’s more than just pride
of ownership—it’s that for most of the recipients it was also something of a
long way around, something they waited for, worked for, and were therefore
going to take care of when they finally got it.
Israel is too important to the Jewish people for God to have simply given it
to them the quick and easy way. So I agree with Rashi…the way to translate
the phrase that began our discussion this morning is that God did not send
the people the way of the Philistines because it was near. It would have
been a mistake to send the people the short way. They needed to go the long
way. They needed to learn the lessons they would learn from living in the
desert for forty years – lessons about faith, lessons about an appreciation
for living free – and they needed time to develop an appreciation for the
preciousness of the gift that God was giving them. Nothing will make you
appreciate a land “flowing with milk and honey” more than a lengthy time
living in the desert.
May God grant us all the patience to remember that sometimes the shortest
path is not the best path. May we remember what the late songwriter Kate
Wolff wrote: “sometimes let a backroad take you home.”
